Hobbit & LOTR Spoofs
by Jasper the Poke-e-Gheist
Summary: What do the people of Middle-Earth get up to behind closed doors? A series of one-shots...
1. A Short Stay in Rivendell

**Summary: Someone had to clean up after the dwarves' food fight.**

**Disclaimer: I clearly don't own the Hobbit.**

**Notes: Takes place just after the Hobbit Rivendell Dinner extended scene.**

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"Lunch was interesting, my lord."

Lindir laughed as he saw his lord kneeling on the floor, cleaning up the mess made earlier. The dwarves had decided to share their culture with the elves. It did not go down well.

"Interesting, Lindir?" Elrond looked up, seeing the minstrel stood on the top of the step, fighting off a smile. "I admit interesting is not the word I would have chosen... but each to their own."

Elrond returned his gaze to the food on the floor.

Lindir finally smiled and walked over, joining his lord on the floor. He began picking up a small amount of food. He then wondered if it was at all wise for him to have joined his lord, as it meant he would then have to help scrape the splattered food from the walls.

"But you have to admit... The song was rather catchy."

Elrond coughed. "Catchy? Maybe, but I am sure you could do better. Besides... if they are going to act hostile towards me in my own homely house, they can expect green food and classical music."

Lindir let out a laugh which had been building up ever since Bofur stepped onto the table. He then turned serious for a moment. "My lord, I fear I have some grave news." Elrond looked up sharply. "There is no easy way to say this... but the dwarves... they have found our wine."

Elrond gasped. "That is grave news indeed, Lindir. Whatever shall we do?"

"Beg the elves of Mirkwood to send us some?" Lindir suggested, laughing to himself. "The dwarves are sleeping now, or at least they were the last time I checked. So we have a least a few hours of peace."

Elrond smiled. "Then let us savor the next few hours. And I have a dead leg."

The two elves helped each other to stand, Elrond ignoring the tingling feeling of the blood rushing back through his legs. "I have been at this for hours... and it looks no better. Ow I feel stiff."

"My lord..." Lindir began. "...may I ask you something?"

"Of course." Elrond nodded once. "What troubles you?"

The two sat down on the table to take a little rest. Lindir took a deep sigh. "It is just... the dragon... I understand Thorin's desire to reclaim his homeland and I fully support him, but..."

Elrond sighed. "You worry they will disturb Smaug and allow him to escape; to find other realms to take over or destroy. While I admit I do not know how this will turn out... I _do _know that the journey will take them into the Greenwood... or rather Mirkwood forest." He added with a sad tone. "Thranduil will never let them continue with their journey."

"If they managed to get past the spiders, that is." Lindir added with the same sad tone.

"True." Elrond rolled his eyes when he saw a pool of spilled wine which was now soaking his robes. He leaned over and picked up the cup, which still had a little wine left in it. "Besides... there are more pressing matters at the moment."

"Oh? Like what?"

Elrond fought valiantly to hide the smile. "Like however are you going to get the scent of wine out of your hair?"

"What do you mean?"

Lindir gasped when his lord leaped off the table and threw the leftover wine all over his hair. "In response to the dilemma, I feel I should claim what is rightfully mine."

"And what is that?"

"Revenge!" Lindir yelled, throwing some sticky substance from the table at his lord, who barely managed to duck in time.

From the arch above the stairs, Gandalf and Thorin watched as the two elves engaged in a food fight of their own.


	2. Spiders

**Summary: Spiders are more scared of you than you are of them. The elves of Mirkwood beg to differ.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned, I'd be rich and my house wouldn't be falling apart.**

**Notes: Yes, it's a giant spider. Belongs to Wednesdayite13, but she can't log in for some reason so I'm posting her stuff here until she can.**

**-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-**

When Thranduil entered his throne room, he saw his son stood staring up at the corner. "Ion nin, what is wrong?"

Legolas' gaze never left the creature as he answered, "there's a spider in the corner of the room."

Thranduil walked over to his son, standing beside him. He followed Legolas' gaze. "Ah, so there is."

"What should we do?" Legolas asked quietly. "It's a big spider. Should we shoot it?"

Thranduil shook his head. "Nay, that would be far too simple. We need to take drastic measures."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Legolas edged closer to the giant spider, a small handkerchief in his hand. He slowly reached up, attempting to catch the spider, but flinched as the spider moved to the side slightly.

He tried again, but this time the spider seemed to have lost its grip on the wall and fell to the floor beside the young prince, who screamed and ran out of the room, dropping the handkerchief.

"It appears we need better tactics." Thranduil muttered under his breath.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Thranduil crept over to the unmoving spider, hoping to catch it unawares. He had a small glass in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. "O-OK… I-I think… I might…"

Frustratingly, his arm twitched slightly, disturbing the spider. It ran past Thranduil and over to the other side of the room. "I've not got it, I'VE NOT GOT IT!" He panicked.

"You know what?! Fine!" Legolas yelled at the spider. "If you wanna stay here, that's fine by me! But I'm expecting rent! Don't just sit there like you own the place!"

"Legolas?"

"I'm not done!" The prince yelled in frustration, startling the Elven-King. "If you plan on making a web, don't wait until we're out of the room. We want to see you do it. We don't want to just walk into this room, unawares that while we've been away, you've been making your own wonderland, and we end up getting webs stuck in our hair while you sit there looking innocent!"

"Legolas." Thranduil tried again.

"And while I sleep, I want you nowhere near me!" Legolas continued. "I don't want to accidentally eat you in your sleep. And if you feel like you absolutely have to come up to me, be sure to announce yourself first! I don't want a heart attack when I feel you crawling up my arm."

"I-I'm not sure it can-"

"And I know a single spider can produce seven types of silk, but please can you just use the one? Don't create different webs with different silk to make me think there's more than just you lurking in here!"

"Finished?"

Legolas let out a sigh before nodded. "Aye, finished."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

In a matter of days, the elves of Mirkwood had grown used to their newest arrival. The spider hadn't moved for days, and they never expected it to. They were perfectly fine with it… so long as they could see it.

Legolas entered the room cautiously, gasping when he noticed a lack of something. "Ada…" He yelled.

Thranduil rushed into the throne room, fearing what had caused his son to cry out like that. "Legolas? Ion nin, what is…" He gasped, noticing the same thing Legolas did. "Where is that spider?!"


	3. Into the Fire

**Summary: This is what _should _have happened 3,000 years ago.**

**Disclaimer: Nope, I still do not own the Hobbit. Though... I _do _now own... the Key to Erebor (replica)!**

**Notes: Sorry it's short, but I just had to make this happen one way or another.**

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The Last Alliance of Elves and Men. It was nothing like the songs of the minstrels. Each party suffered great loss, some personal. Elrond lost his closest friend. Thranduil lost his father, and Isildur his.

"Cast it into the fire!" Elrond yelled. He thought it should have gone without saying, but Isildur seemed a little... off. This was perfectly understandable, having just witnessed the death of his father, but it was also rather frightening, as he had just retrieved the ring. The one ring to rule them all.

And he wanted it.

Isildur glared at the elf for a moment, until replying simply. "No."

He turned to leave but Elrond blocked his passage. "Isildur. You must."

"Must I? Imagine what I can do with this ring. All the good I can do-"

"You say that now." The elf interrupted, reaching slowly for his sword as he spoke. "But you cannot possibly-"

"Nothing you say will change my mind, elf." The man spoke with such hatred in his voice; hatred Elrond had never heard from Isildur before. He was positively scared now. Not that he'd ever show it.

"I cannot allow you to leave with the ring!" The elf yelled defensively, having no intentions of stepping aside.

"Oh? How do you think you're going to stop me?" Isildur approached the elf, but Elrond still did not step aside. "What could you possibly do?"

Elrond took one look at the man in front of him. His gaze travelled to the ring. And then to the fire. Then back to Isildur. He stepped forward, hand out in front of him, and...

The ring was never seen again.

And neither was the previously brief High King of Gondor.

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**That's what I would have done... if I was Elrond...**


	4. Council of Elrond

**Summary: What should have happened at the Council of Elrond**

**Disclaimer: Guess what? I had a DNA test and it turns out I'm a direct descendant of JRR Tolkein... No? Really? Okay. Oh, and neither do I own Family Guy. Yes, that's important for the last two lines. Just saying...**

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"Strangers from distant lands. Friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate - this one doom." The elf lord gestured to the pedestal. "Bring forth the ring, Frodo."

Frodo silently rose and placed the ring upon the pedestal. Boromir watched in awe, bringing his hand to his mouth - a strange trait amongst men. "So it is true."

The Hobbit returned to his seat beside Gandalf, seemingly relieved. Each member of the council stared at the ring, as if it were a figment of their imagination.

The ring began whispering to each council member in turn, each hearing something different.

_'When was the last time you shaved?'_

_'Your eyebrows are brown; did you bleach your hair, elf?'_

_'Must you always scowl?'_

Boromir raised from his seat after hearing one of his men whisper, "The Doom of Men."

"In a dream, I saw the eastern sky grow dark. But in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying: 'Your doom is near at hand.'" He approached the ring on the pedestal and continued. "Isildur's Bane is found."

He reached out.

Elrond leaped up, as if his seat was covered in pins. "Boromir!"

"BOROMIR YOU FOOL OF A STEWARD!" Gandalf roared in the language of the Black Speech of Mordor. "DO NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT TOUCHING THAT **** RING YOU *******!" He took a deep breath, calming down, and returned to his seat.

Elrond turned to the wizard slowly. "Never has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris."

Gandalf, voice raspy, replied. "I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West. The Ring is all together evil."

* * *

"You have only one choice." Elrond spoke clearly. "The Ring must be destroyed."

"_We_?" Saelbeth whispered to the elf sat beside him. "What, is he no longer part of this world?"

"Then what are we waiting for?" Gimli rose from his seat, grabbed his axe and...

He was repelled back, being thrown high into the air and landing on the floor with a giant crack. Concurrently, Frodo winced as he saw the Eye of Sauron in his mind.

The elves snickered.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Glóin, by any craft that we here possess." Elrond explained quickly. "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came."

Legolas suddenly rose from his seat. "Son of Glóin?!"

Gimli then rose himself from the floor, ignoring his possible dislocation. "Yes, what of it?"

"Let me give you a clue." The elf hissed. "I am Legolas Thranduillion, Prince of the Woodland Realm."

"Mirkwood." Lindir whispered to Aragorn, who laughed under his breath.

"Daro!" Elrond yelled harshly, growing tired of this mixed council. "The Ring must be destroyed! One of you must do this."

"One of us?" One of the dwarves asked defiantly. "I like how you have so eagerly dismissed yourself."

"I have already, as the men would say, been there and done that." The elf lord defended himself.

Silence filled the air.

Until Boromir disturbed it. "One does not simply walk into Mordor." And so the Internet meme was born.

Legolas glared at Boromir defiantly. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed."

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?!" The son of Glóin yelled.

Boromir rose once again. "And if we fail, what then?! What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?!"

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" Gimli retorted.

Legolas gasped. "But in the hands of Sauron, it is just fine. Is that what you're saying?!"

Elrond raised a tired hand to his tired head as the council erupted in a massive argument. This was probably the most words Lindir had ever said in front of any one elf. Amongst the angry yells and cried, Elrond heard the same troublesome dwarf shout the words "never trust an elf" which led him to wonder why he attended a council held by elves.

Instead of watching the argument, Frodo focused on the reflection of the figures on the Ring, as he believed it would add to the suspense.

"I will take it!" Frodo shouted, rising from his seat. Full of determination, he approached the arguing council and spoke louder as to make himself heard. "I will take it!"

The argument died down. Astonished, the members of the council turned towards the Hobbit.

And it was from this day forth all on Middle-Earth will remember the phrase, 'Frodo it gre- who is **_that_**?!'

"I will take the Ring to Mordor." Frodo elaborated, in case some of the council members had forgotten what they were talking about. "Though - I do not know the way."

Gandalf walked towards Frodo and softly said. ""I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." He reassuringly placed his hands on Frodo's small shoulders.

In awe, Aragorn rose. "If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will." He walked over to the Hobbit and knelt, presenting his weapon. "You have my sword."

"And you have my bow." Legolas added, walking over to join them.

Gimli shot the elf a grim look as he joined the group. "And my axe."

Frodo smiled at the three beings and took their weapons. "Thank you very much."

"Heh!" A voice yelled from behind some bushes. Sam. "Mister Frodo is not goin' anywhere without me!"

Elrond failed to hide his amused look as the Hobbit walked over to stand beside his friend. "No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."

It was at this moment Pippin and Merry decided to join them. They emerged from their hiding place - the pillars. "Wait! We are coming too!"

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Merry said confidently.

"Anyway you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest… thing." Pippin added.

"Well that rules you out Pip."

Elrond quickly did a head count. 5... 6... 7... 8... Eight companions. No, wait. He didn't see the dwarf down there. Nine. "Nine companions… So be it! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

* * *

Meanwhile, in Quahog, Rhode Island...

"Hahaha he said it!"

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**And now I would just like to say thanks for all the lovely reviews so far. Here's a riddle. The man who makes it doesn't want it. The man who wants it doesn't use it. The man who's using it doesn't know he is using it.**


	5. I knew Thrór

**Summary: "I knew Thrór when he ruled under the mountain."**

**Disclaimer: Let's make a list of things I don't own; rights to The Hobbit, rights to the Lord of the Rings, rights to the Silmarillion, a Porsche 935 turbo, an Aston Martin dbs v12, a Ferrari 458 italia, mansion, a Harley Davidson, a T.A.R.D.I.S...**

* * *

"Welcome Thorin son of Thrain." Elrond greeted.

Thorin continued to glare at the lord. "I do not believe we have met."

Elrond fought with himself not to return the scowl. "You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thrór when he ruled under the mountain."

"Indeed; he made no mention of you."

Finally, Elrond scowled. Of course he made no mention of him.

* * *

It was Thranduil who had persuaded the lord of Imladris to venture deep into the mountains. He walked down the currently slippery pathway with his five other companions; his trusty adviser, the formerly deceased Balrog slayer, his two sons and Lindir.

"And what do you think, ada?" Elrohir asked. "Could the Arkenstone be a-"

"Ssh," Elrond whispered, "do not let the Dwarves hear you speak about their 'precious jewel' in that manor."

"But do you think it could be?" Elladan asked.

Elrond paused in thought for a moment. "I could not say; I'd have to see for myself."

"There he is." Glorfindel whispered to Erestor. "Sat high and mighty on his throne like a... a..."

"King?" Erestor offered.

As the elves approached, Thror didn't say a word. He just watched as his son Thrain presented the chest holding their jewel. Elrond was the one who studied it the closest, and Thror grew suspicious.

"It certainly is a wondrous find." Elrond complimented softly.

* * *

The dwarves offered the elves food, shelter and entertainment during their stay, although they didn't exactly cater for elves.

Lindir was sat picking at the fat connecting the meat. "I am not a vegetarian, but this is just... gross."

"Gross?" Elrohir laughed. "Is that the best word you could come up with?"

Elrond, however, nodded in agreement. "If dwarves ever find themselves in Rivendell..." He said, already plotting.

Erestor clenched his fists as he ducked yet another piece of flying bread rolls. "You know, I can imagine how King Thranduil would have reacted during his stay! They are seriously lacking resources, and here the dwarves are throwing it around!" He ducked again. "Why is this fun for them?"

"Well if this is their idea of entertainment..." Glorfindel said, picking up a leg of meat, aiming it at a random dwarf.

He threw the leg of meat.

The dwarf moved.

Glorfindel gasped.

The meat his the head of another dwarf. A particular dwarf. Thror.

Elrond froze, mouth wide open. "...Glorfindel..."

Sharing the same horrified look, Erestor turned to Glorfindel. "So how would you feel about returning to Middle-Earth?"

"You know," Glorfindel replied, "I'm not entirely sure that would be right for me."

The youngest elf amongst them - Lindir - couldn't help but burst out with laughter.

Elrond began shaking.

"Lindir." Elrohir hissed. "That's not funny."

Lindir shook his head. "It sort of is."

The elf lord joined his minstrel in his laughter. "Now I understand why this is fun for them."

* * *

Elrond's response was elvish. "Nartho i noer, toltho i viruvor."

"What is he saying?" Gloin snapped. "Does he offer us insult?"

Fighting off a laugh, Gandalf replied, "No, master Gloin, he's offering you food."

Bombor's face lit up.

They discuss amongst themselves. "Well, in that case, lead on."

* * *

**Note: Just because this is the type of thing that'd happen to me.**


	6. Prologue

**This is something my friend wrote a few days ago which we will then go and find voice actors for; this is going to be at the start of our new album Collision Theory. This was in script form, but I changed the format so I could post it.**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own.**

**Notes:** _Italics _**are when Galadriel is doing the voice over. Oh and there may be a possible spoiler or two for those who haven't read the Silmarillion. Just warning you.**

* * *

_The world is changed: I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth, I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes, I smell it in the air...Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember it._

_It began with the forging of the Great Rings._

_Three were given to the Elves, immortal, antisocial, wisest, fairest of all beings. Which was strange, since he who made the rings was himself an elf. You'd have thought he'd be biased towards who received the most rings. His name; Celebrimbor. I feel he did not receive enough credit in the trilogy. In fact, he had no credit. No credit for his own creations._

Cirdan raised the ring given to him by Celebrimbor. "I don't like it."

_Seven to the Dwarf Lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls. Four of which was lost to dragon fire, because dragons do not like Dwarves. Neither, for that matter, do the elves._

_And nine... nine rings were gifted to the race of Men who, above all else, desired power. Because they were selfish. And annoyed._

"Haha Ilúvatar likes us better than you!" The great elf smith Celebrimbor laughed as he walked away.

_For within these rings was bound the strength and will to govern each race. Or in the eyes of the men, they were magic._

_But they were all of them deceived. Not only a few of them, but all of them._

_For another ring was made._

_In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron forged in secret a Master Ring to control all others._

Feeling the need to explain himself to his fellow elves, Celebrimbor explained, "I would like to take this opportunity to ensure you are all aware that I played no part in the making of this ring."

In the corner of the darkened room, Annatar spoke. "I forged one ring without your knowledge, while you forged THREE without mine!"

"I did not intend to use my three in that way."

Annatar growled. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

_And into this ring he somehow found a way to pour his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life. One ring to rule them all. One by one the Free lands of Middle-Earth fell to the power of the ring._

_But there were some... who resisted._

Isildur raised his sword defiantly. "I refuse to fall to the power of the ring!"

Behind him, the warrior Elrond rolled his eyes. "You say that now."

_A not-in-the-least last alliance of elves and men against the armies of Mordor. On the slopes of Mount Doom they fought for the freedom of Middle-Earth._

_Victory was near._

_And may the odds be ever in your favour!_

_But the power of the Ring could not be undone. It was in this moment... when all hope had faded... that Isildur... son of the king... took up his father's sword... But it broke... and was displayed... until the time came to reforge the great sword Narsil._

_The Ring passed to Isildur... who had this one chance to destroy evil forever. Did he A destroy the ring, B refuse to part with the ring or C insert the ring where the sun was all but recognised?_

_The hearts of Men are easily corrupted, because Men are stupid and selfish and clearly sexist. And the Ring of Power has a will of its own._

"You don't want to destroy little old helpless me, do you?" The One Ring whispered.

_It betrayed Isildur to his death._

"Isildur! Cast it into the fire! Destroy it!" Elrond yelled, ignoring the heat of the flames.

"No."

"ISILDUR!"

From the battlefield, a large group of both elves and men yelled, "PUSH HIM!"

_And some things that should not have been forgotten... were forgotten... because Fifi Forget-me-not... forgot._

_History became legend... legend became myth... myth became bedtime story..._

_And for two and a half thousand years, the Ring passed out of all knowledge. Until, when the chance came, it ensnared a new bearer!_

"My Precious."

_And another._

"What's this?" The Hobbit asked himself as he brushed the dirt off the shining gold ring.

In the background, cries were heard. "Lost! Lost! My Precious is lost! Theif!"

"Strange. I seem to remember it happening a little differently than this." Bilbo commented to no-one in particular.

* * *

**So yes, this is going to be at the start of our album.**

******Next, I will be responding to the review: _You should have one of the dwarves bathing while Lindir and Elrond are watching or when Bilbo was overhearing the conversation between Gandalf and Elrond about Thorin._**


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